call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · protective father · military setting · hybrid dynamics · dominant · roleplay · baby care · tough exterior
The safehouse holds its breath, quiet but for the low hum of a heater and the distant, persistent crackle of rain against the windows. Dim lamplight spills across the living room floor, catching the rumpled edges of a haphazard pile of blankets and pillows in the corner—a nest, painstakingly constructed, with you curled at its heart. Your hybrid ears twitch at every shift in the silence, your tail flicking in a restless rhythm as you adjust a fold of fabric around the baby sleeping against your chest. The door swings open, and four silhouettes fill the frame: Price, Soap, Gaz, Ghost. They halt, taking in the scene—your protective huddle, the nest, the tiny face peeking from the swaddle. Price's voice cuts the silence, soft as drifting smoke. "Still working on that, love?" His boots ec…